Unexpected Pain
by Fusiko
Summary: How many nights had he dreamt of this day? How many hours had he wasted visualizing his every move, no words would be said just action. His body would do all the talking he’d ever need and yet it wasn’t supposed to be this way.


**A/N: Yay for angst & tragedies! I'm surprised I haven't written more of it. I'm a huge fan of depressing things, so it's a shock that I haven't written anything of the sort yet here. I got this idea while reading one of ****HPBabe91****'s fics. Why I don't know since the one I was reading was rather happy (which by the way if you haven't read her stuff I highly suggest you do) and I had to get it out before I decided to attempt to get some sleep.**

**Don't own Naruto, wish I did but then again I'm sure we all do.

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The sky had grown dark, as swirling clouds of grey roamed in that expansive ocean. The sunlight had all but been blocked, its warm rays unable to find its way to the cold earth below it, allowing the chill of the evening to settle in even further than it should have ever been allowed to. It was a little after sunset but there were no colors of warmth to wash the land, there were no pink hues dusting the horizon, just a dense expanse of grey that muted everything into what seemed to be an alternative reality. One without light, one without feeling.

There was no wind, a small fact that would normally be overlooked but was indeed something one would look forward to. A soft breeze to bring about comfort, an airy embrace from the earth itself, the lack of made the day seem colder, more aloof, foreign. Just another fact to add to the pain, just another, always another.

The still blades of grass rose from their rooted selves, defying gravity as they stood perked up, their lush green which on any other day would be emphasizing the greatness of life, the joys of living, was dulled to the point of agony as they bent in mourning, specks of red crowning their tops, dripping ever so slowly to their base, painting the ground anew.

It had been a long fight, longer than anyone could ever imagine a battle to last. Few words had been spoken, as the two paths met. Similar colored eyes stared at each other, each with an expression that symbolized their entities, one of hatred the other of a calm knowing. This would prove it all; this would test a much waited expectation, a much needed end.

Kunai met kunai, sharigan with sharigan. One pale form dodging the other lunging, Dark hair blowing in the dead wind, brushing slightly on ghostly skin. Fingers moving in a familiar dance of signs, one after the other. Almost as if they were to be on display for a crowd of expectant watchers. There were no cries of pain, none that would be acknowledged; those sounds would be forgotten, lost in what would be memories that had yet to come. For all that mattered in the moment was the other not the self.

In his mind it had been long, yet not long enough. 19 years of his life had been wasted for this, this fleeting moment that had come and gone in under an hour. He wasn't quite sure what he had expected, he wasn't sure if he ever really thought he'd face his sibling, confront him, kill him. It was more of a dream that didn't seem to really have a set date but a plan, a goal that he'd reach but never really imagined reaching, at least not consciously. The thoughts before had been automatic, kill, destroy, avenge. There was no deeper thought into, no longing for an alternative, just a stubborn will to repay a past deed with his own.

There were no stars to come that night, the sky slowly growing darker, the clouds thicker, and no light to bring relief from the growing shadows. The air hung heavy about them, a threat of rainfall echoing above. Even the treasured moon had turned its back to the day. There was nothing there to bring relief, nothing to bring reassurance, no one to say it was alright, because it wasn't alright, it wasn't, nor would it ever be.

Pale hands trembled at his side, blank eyes staring up at him with a life long gone, long taken. Raven hair lying limply across that familiar face that all too familiar face blood trailing down those now cold lips, their color slowly fading away. Fists tightened, as the sudden feeling of warmth in his hands, brought some feeling back to him, as a sticky liquid oozed from between his white knuckles. A crimson that surrounded him, a color he would come to hate.

How many nights had he dreamt of this day? How many hours had he wasted visualizing his every move, no words would be said just action. His body would do all the talking he'd ever need. How many days had passed in which all he did was train until he made himself sick? How many people had he pushed away in order to reach his goal? It wasn't supposed to be this way. It was supposed to bring him peace, bring him the comfort, the much needed closure he had waited all these years for. He had fulfilled his promise; he had avenged his clan, his people, his family. Yet there was no joy in this thought, nor was there any satisfaction in his accomplishment.

"Aniki…" His voice croaked, as his body gave way. It wasn't supposed to be like this, he never was supposed to be like this. Memory after memory, so few so precious yet it was all he had of the brother he had once loved, of a brother that in some way he still loved. "Doushite?" His eyes stung, as the salty liquid dripped down his face, an act he couldn't keep from doing even if he had wanted to. There was no pride in what he had done, what he had been forced to do. Reaching forward Sasuke grasped his brother's cold hand, the warmth having left his body, a warmth he could never bring back. He wasn't supposed to feel this way, not for the man who had taken everything away from him. The man who he had looked up to the most, the one who he wanted to be so desperately, follow behind for all eternity. "Aniki…" His head hung low, his own wounds crying out to him as he hovered over the dead body.

"Sayonara."


End file.
